Propinquity
by afullmargin
Summary: Explicit. M/M. propinquity [prəˈpɪŋkwɪtɪ] n 1. nearness in place or time 2. nearness in relationship


**Rating**: Explicit

**Notes**: Written on a whim over far more time than I expected it take – I blame John's inability to shut up in my head.

**Prompt**: First time

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.

**Written**: 1/2013

* * *

In John's eyes, it had been a few years coming – waiting for the intersection of tension and opportunity to make one of them take the chance. Somewhat predictably, it was John who bent first – he had less to lose, having sex with a man… hell, having sex with another detective… wasn't new territory. It didn't change his perspective and it gave Fin the out if he couldn't deal with it.

It just so happened that intersection was a rainy, gray evening after spending the day trying to prove their own competency as arresting officers in the trial of a rapist with far too much money for his own good and no legs to stand on.

John pulled up to the curb and threw it into park – leaving the motor running. "You, uh… doing anything tonight?"

Fin shrugged and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Rented a couple flicks last week I should probably watch."

"Riveting." John nodded slowly; "I think I'm gonna get something to eat at that Thai place down the block. You know, if you feel like joining me I could always use a second for satay and curry puffs."

"Can't do Thai and a Coney on the same day without half a bottle of the pink stuff. Besides, I got a piece upstairs waiting for me."

"I'm jealous," John smirked, knowing full and well he wasn't talking about anything but food. "Blonde or brunette?"

"Porterhouse," Fin replied, getting out of the car. He lingered a long moment and it occurred to John a little too late that he was waiting for something.

He didn't know what say and missed the moment; Fin had already made the dash across the wet sidewalk and let himself into the building. "Smooth, Johnny…. You used to be charming." He muttered under his breath. Briefly, he considered letting it go – there would be other chances that didn't immediately follow a clumsy joke and awkward silence. Still, he got the clear impression the opportunity was there.

He turned off the car and flipped up his coat collar against the cold rain, tilting his hat to let the rain drip off the brim a few long minutes as he stood in front of the buzzer considering the wisdom of his actions. Eventually, he pushed the button and waited for the crackle and hiss of Fin's voice over the intercom.

Instead, Fin came down the stairs still wearing his suit and tie, the freshly pressed blue shirt untucked and complemented with a ragged pair of plaid house shoes. "What's up?" He asked, opening the lobby door.

"I didn't expect you to come down."

"Almost didn't, but I looked out the window and saw the car. Figured I forgot something." Fin shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at him with an innocent challenge. They both knew he didn't forget anything, he never did.

John looked down a moment, away from that intent look that silently asked what he was even still doing there – there was a wear mark across the toe of Fin's right slipper that he let himself believe was interesting, like it might unlock some clue of the universe to know why he didn't have it on the other side. The truth was, there was no excuse to be there. His ship had already sailed in asking about dinner plans; and just asking to come up was about as obvious as it got - if he was going to be obvious, he was going to pull out all the stops, subtlety be damned. So, he looked back up and leaned through the heavy veil of drips from the wet doorway and reached to take a chance. One arm slipped through the bend of Fin's elbow and around his waist while the other clumsily grabbed for his tie – pulling him in for an awkward, but somewhat satisfying kiss.

Startled, Fin tried for a second to pull away – and then pushed in closer, letting John's tongue open his lips. Raindrops pricked at his unprotected face, but for a moment he didn't really notice anything beyond the pull of John's hands and the unexpected softness of his mouth. When he pulled away, John slid his fingers slowly down the black silk of Fin's tie, waiting for some answer to the unspoken question. "Come on, you're letting the water in."

There was a quip about the rain in New York not being able to call itself water anymore, but it lodged itself in John's throat. He didn't say a word until Fin locked them in his apartment and he asked; "Should I apologize?"

"What do you think?" Fin asked.

"Well, I'm not down in the car nursing a black eye." John shrugged, taking the initiative to hang his wet coat and hat. "And you didn't exactly seem to be fighting it."

"I was in shock."

John let out a non-committal sigh, standing awkwardly in the middle of the small living room. "I'm sorry. I guess I got the signals wrong."

"What signals?" Fin's eyes narrowed as he loosened his tie, watching John closely.

Calling up thoughts he'd already been going over on his own for quite some time, John answered; "Have you ever heard of the propinquity effect? People that spend a lot of time together, especially in close quarters, are statistically more likely to end up in a sexual relationship. Leading cause of infidelity among professionals who work extensive hours… like cops."

"So you think I want to sleep with you because we spend so much time together?"

Fin dropped into his recliner, solving the dilemma of the mysterious wear mark as he used his foot to pull up the leg rest.

"I've spent more time with you over the last eight years than all my ex-wives combined. Last week we were arguing in the middle of the 92nd Street market about whether or not it's okay to put peas in paella."

Fin frowned; "So we're close."

"I know what brand of toothpaste you use."

"Was that before or after you decided we should play tonsil hockey?" When John responded with another shrug, Fin said; "Yeah, I guess it might have happened – but there's a problem. I don't go for guys."

"Oh come on, that's the best you've got? Some outdated insistence that because you're straight you can't do something you want to do?"

"I never said I wanted to. You started it."

John folded his arms across his chest and took a deep breath, staring him down. "In 1948, Kinsey attempted to describe the sexual strata on a sliding scale – introducing the radical concept that it's not only entirely possible to fantasize and have sexual experiences with someone outside of your preference without changing your identity, it's pretty common."

"Kinsey did his research mostly with hookers and prison inmates in an effort to defend being bisexual."

"You're missing the point. I'm just opening the door here to a mutually beneficial arrangement." John licked his lips and uncrossed his arms to brush a thin hand through his hair. "We capitalize on the tension we've already got – and after that kiss, you can't tell me it isn't there – and if something better comes along we part ways and nothing changes. It's not like we aren't already emotionally attached… I mean, I'd take a bullet for you."

"I'd take the subway for you," Fin shot back sarcastically.

"See, that's love." John stepped closer, letting his legs brush against the extended footrest. "And if it doesn't work, then whatever… we go away with a few hours entertainment and a good laugh."

Slowly, Fin's frown softened to more of a reluctant scowl that John knew for a fact meant that he'd hit a nerve. He nodded and asked; "All right. We gonna do this thing, then?"

"I'm game if you are."

"How do we start?" He shifted in his chair, pushing down on the footrest until it collapsed back into the chair with a hollow protest.

"Usually there's a lot less talking and lot more nudity somewhere near an acceptable surface – preferably soft."

"Yeah, well you started with the psychology lecture." Fin rose up on his feet, looking John over with a clearly hesitant eye.

"I figured it'd be bad form to rip your clothes off like some kind of animal." John shrugged, reaching out a little more tentatively to take hold of Fin's loosened tie – pulling him closer. "And I figured you'd rather be in control of the situation."

"John…" he whispered, shaking his head as he pushed in closer; "shut up."

"Yes, Sir." John grinned, letting Fin take the lead in kissing him – much more wet and easy than before but still with the same eager spark that told him they were making a good decision.

At least good for the moment, which was all he really cared to think past when Fin's hands were rapidly thumbing open buttons and searching for warm skin. "You always kiss like that?"

John answered with a soft laugh, taking the direct route and tugging open Fin's belt and the small plastic zipper. "You always ask questions when someone's trying to get your fly open?"

"You move a bit faster than I'm used to."

"Gives us less opportunity to question our actions."

"Ahh…" Fin bit back a groan when John's fingers wrapped around his partially hard cock through the thin sheath of his boxers, squeezing gently.

"Guess I didn't misread signals, huh?" John smirked, giving another encouraging stroke.

An unexpected smile broke across Fin's lips and John kissed him again, determined to keep him smiling. "The glasses ain't helping…" Fin murmured, tugging free John's shirt before reaching up to remove them. When his pants and undershorts hit the floor, he tossed the glasses for the safety of his coffee table – he was sold.

"Better?" John squinted slightly, trying to look comfortable without the lenses when he kissed Fin again, enjoying the sensation of his length pushing back against his palm with each gentle stroke of skin against skin. It was unexpected… he figured there'd be more of a struggle, that it'd be so awkward they couldn't stop laughing long enough to actually get even halfway there… as it was things were looking pretty promising.

Fin's eyes remained closed after John broke the kiss, not necessarily picturing someone else but not exactly picturing John as the older man shifted down to his knees and nuzzled against him – not at all shy with his lips and tongue exploring his shaft and over his sac. "God…" he panted, both hands finding John's hair with a gentle grasp, urging him further. "You've done this before."

"Maybe…" John murmured, drawing his tongue up the underside to elicit a low moan. "Maybe I just spent a lot of time thinking about what this was going to be like when it happened."

Fin's fingers tightened in his partner's hair and he stifled another groan; "I'll take my chances on the former."

It wasn't a sucker guess. John took him in slowly, rolling his tongue over the tip and down the shaft with a practiced ease; silent for once save for the soft groans of eager approval. By the time he pulled away, ruddy faced and a little debauched from the detective Fin knew before, the deal was sealed. "Bed?" John panted, wiping the back of his hand across his lips; "This is hell on my knees."

Leaving his slippers and pants in a pool on the floor, Fin took John's wrist and led him toward the bedroom. "I can't believe we're doing this…" he muttered under his breath.

"I can't believe I'm still dressed."

"I was working on that when you distracted me."

John rolled his eyes and murmured; "Excuses, excuses…" He saw the bed and slowed until the edge brushed against his leg and then went to work getting off his tie. "Help me with my noose."

"I dunno… kind of like it…" Fin grinned, waving the other man's hands aside to loosen the knot. "Gives me a leash to hold on to."

"Kinky… maybe next time we'll talk about who gets tied to the bed." John chuckled, pushing in to brush a kiss against his cheek and the corner of his mouth as the tie was looped over his head and tossed aside.

Fin pushed the shirt off John's shoulders and replied casually; "Only if you wear the gag."

"I'll take your subtle threat as a promise of good things to come." John hastily shoved down his pants, and toed off his shoes before falling onto the bed. "What're you comfortable with?"

"What are we talking?"

"Whatever, I'm… adventurous. " John sighed with a happy smile, leaning back on his arms in a misguided attempt to appear comfortable. "I wouldn't suggest penetration without lubricant and a bit of prep work…"

Fin cut John off with a nervous half-laugh as he climbed on top of him, awkwardly pressing him down into the mattress with hesitant kisses. "You know… I'm about three shy of drunk enough for that can of worms."

John smirked; "Open communication is the key to a healthy sexual relationship, my friend. No harm in letting you know the door is open."

"Not exactly keen on going through it yet," Fin rolled his eyes, smiling when John tugged at the tie still loosely knotted at his collar. Experimentally, he rocked his hips and dug his hardness against the angle of John's hip, letting out a soft murmur of approval.

"Your loss."

"What's the key to getting you to shut your mouth?"

John tugged playfully at the silk, drawing Fin closer as he found a comfortable position to continue the gentle tease of skin against skin. "Use your imagination."

He closed the short distance between them, letting himself not think about what he was doing or who he was doing it with as he drank in the taste of stale coffee and lingering sweetness from the milkshake John had sipped on the way over. It wasn't what he expected, not that he expected anything, but it felt good to be close.

John lifted his hips into the sensation, a moan catching in his throat as Fin's thigh dug against his cock – teasing him with each push. "Just like that…" he panted, both hands raking up the back of Fin's shirt before wrapping fully around him. "Please…"

"Damn…" Fin grunted, lowering his head against the sensation. It'd been a long time since dry humping was on the menu but for the moment it was doing the job. John clung to him, spindly arms he'd felt before but never with such conviction, and it only excited him more. He couldn't get around it, no matter how much it pushed at what he knew about himself, he wanted it. "This is all right…" he whispered against John's lips.

"Not so much bullshit psychology now, is it?" He replied only to be answered with another hard kiss. A strong hand found its way between them, pushing back against the eager stroke until he could feel the wetness spreading against his thigh and broke for a panting breath. Pushing up hard with his shoulders and hips, John managed to roll him onto his side and forced Fin's hand to wrap around the thick shaft – rubbing his fingers over the tip with each short stroke.

Letting John take control, as if he'd ever given it up to begin with, Fin relaxed back against the pillows – his lips finding the pronounced curve of John's ear, running on autopilot. It'd be easy to say he had no idea what he was doing, but part of him had wondered if it'd come to it – maybe even hoped it might in a way. Not that he'd ever admit that much. But, he was close and at the moment it didn't particularly matter whose fingers were pushing him over the edge.

John moaned low and loud, his voice sounding almost hollow in the small room when Fin's teeth grazed tender skin and his tongue found the sweet spot so few people found – a heinous oversight considering just how noticeable of an erogenous zone his were. Encouraged, he redoubled his effort and shifted his thumb along the underside of Fin's cock with a little more force… for some it was too much but Fin played right into it, teasing his ear with a perfect groan as he pushed his hips against the John's fist. "Close?" He asked, barely hiding his arousal when Fin's teeth nipped even harder.

"Yes…" came the hissed reply with Fin's fingers digging into the blankets.

"Come on…" John whispered, a smirk stretching his lips as he turned his wrist again. "You know you want to."

Fin pulled away from the crook of John's neck, forcing himself back against the bed when a solid shudder overtook him. He bit down on his lower lip to stifle the cry, his body betraying him as he came over the top of John's hand a whole lot faster than he'd anticipated. "Fuck…" he gasped, eyes still tightly closed.

Slowly, John let up his grip until he was merely drawing the warm fluid from tip to base. "Not too bad, huh?"

"You're a witch." Fin flashed a sedate smile; one John rarely had the joy of seeing and never under such auspicious circumstances. "Did you?"

"Me? It's all right, sometimes I don't actually get off – still a whole lot of fun getting there."

"Oh hell no…" He managed his eyes open and then Fin wiggled onto his side, brushing his lips against John's ear again. "I don't play that way. We aren't done here."

John rocked his shoulders as he shifted onto his back, wiping his hand across Fin's thigh before sheepishly stroking himself. "Mmm, what did you have in mind?"

He flushed hot considering it, damn him for finding one of the few things could actually make him blush, and then Fin whispered against his ear; "What'd you want?"

Reluctant to lose the warm breath and soft lips on his ear, John turned his head to answer; "You." He laughed awkwardly, quick to add; "Hands are good, maybe next time we can work on other stuff."

"Other stuff?" Fin chuckled, drawing his fingers over the unfamiliar skin of John's chest and down his belly toward his thighs. "Do I even want to know?" He wasn't stupid, but a little blissful ignorance never hurt – when you've seen it all sometimes the little things can surprise you.

"I thought you wanted me to talk less? Or were you just waiting for me to extol the virtues of your mouth and the sort of things I think it could do to me?"

"Nasty bastard…" Fin shook his head, allowing himself a moment to explore the wiry curls under his fingertips before stroking over the base of his cock.

John opened his thighs to allow full access, once more turning back to the dull gray blur of the celling to be rewarded with Fin's breath against his cheek and his fingers gently squeezing his mostly hard manhood. "It's not as bad you think it is, guys are easy – they let you know exactly what's going on… no guy ever faked an orgasm. Giving a blowjob is about as close as it gets to honest human contact."

"I'd have let you finish me if you put it that way." He chuckled, squeezing a little more confidently with each slow stroke.

"I'm saving that for a quickie in the men's room," John quipped, following it up with an unexpected moan when Fin's free hand stroked over his sac.

"I bet you'd like that," Fin whispered, nipping his earlobe to draw out another shuddering groan; "On your knees in the handicap stall… creasing up your suit."

John's smile spread, he hadn't exactly expected the mental image – or how appealing it sounded in that particular gruff tone. "Mmm, yeah?" He answered, lifting his hips to push Fin's hand a little faster.

Fin got the hint quick and adjusted as best he could; trying to focus on what it was that was working. He'd been with girls before that liked the dirty talk – but he was pretty sure John wouldn't go for half the things he'd said in the heat of the moment that just make him look like a jackass when he thought about it. "Bet you'd like it even more if I pinned you against the wall."

An involuntary whimper closed John's throat and he closed his eyes, he'd be amused later about just how easy it was to imagine Fin's arm across the back of his shoulders and digging him against the tile. "Mmm… what would you do?"

"Kinky little freak," Fin murmured, nipping his earlobe again before answering; "I'd make you beg first. Tease you; work you up a bit like this…" More than anyone, they knew kink… they knew the bad side that seemed to get all the press. Comparatively a little fantasy misdemeanor was tame.

He shuddered, scratching his short nails across the yoke of Fin's shirt. "Please…" John murmured, pushing his hand to the smooth base of Fin's ponytail. "Please."

"Take it fast then, so we don't get caught… with my hand over your mouth so nobody can hear you moaning." The words tumbled out without much thought, his strokes building faster until John's thighs trembled and the older man flushed pink across his bare chest. "You want it in you too, don't you?"

He whimpered again, his toes curling in the blanket as he rode close to the edge – finally managing to admit weakly; "Yes…"

"Ask nicely." Fin demanded, his teeth raking over John's earlobe.

It was almost too much for his brain to process and John fought back the urge with another soft moan, begging in a voice a very select few had ever coaxed out of him; "Please…"

"That's good…" Fin whispered, and then sucked the tender flesh between his lips, slowing his strokes as he felt John shudder and seize up, lifting his hips off the mattress as he came.

"Ahh… ah…. Okay… okay…" John groaned, flushing even hotter until Fin's mouth let up on his ear – his hands shaking as he curled against Fin's chest. "I can't look at you right now."

Fin chuckled, subconsciously drawn to rest his chin against John's head as he awkwardly wrapped an arm around him to reach for the tissues. "That bad?"

"No… no. God no." John murmured, burying his face against the sweaty cotton blend of Fin's dark shirt. "I'm adding you to my phone sex list."

"You got a list?"

"I do now." He shuddered again, an aftershock as Fin dragged the tissue over his hip after wiping his fingers as clean as they'd get without moving. "Nobody's ever done that to me before."

"You never talked dirty?" Fin raised an eyebrow, searching for a comfortable and yet casual place to put his hand and settling on John's waist. "Liar."

"No, I love that. I mean the sucking thing…" he slowly rolled onto his back, revealing a dark splotch across his left ear; "I think you gave me an ear-hickey." When Fin snorted in an obvious confirmation, John frowned as best as a post-orgasmic man could.

"Not my fault you got saddled with satellite dishes." Fin smirked innocently; "You didn't seem to mind a minute ago."

"Hey!" John protested weakly, wrapping both arms around his partner. "If you get to make big ear jokes I could always dig into the bag of stereotypical penis jokes."

"You could always say it's a brush with frostbite."

"You're not helpful." John's frown slowly turned up at the corners and he managed to peer up at his partner's face. "This didn't get weird, did it?"

"It never stopped bein' weird. Been weird since I met you."

"So it's good, then? I'm being serious here; you're not freaked out or anything?"

Fin shrugged, gradually untangling himself from John. "A little. I'm all right."

"Think we'll do this again."

His feet hit the floor and he pushed out of bed on unsteady legs, heading for the bathroom. At the doorway he paused and nodded before turning back. "It's a possibility."


End file.
